Kuroko's Basketball template: the king of slacking off, Shohoku's strongest sixth man.

Five minutes later, at the Bulls' stadium.

Several Bulls players, each over two meters tall and muscular, lazily walked onto the court.

Looking at the somewhat thin starting lineup of Shohoku, they were full of contempt.

Especially the point guard who is matched up against Ryota Miyagi.

BJ Armstrong deliberately walked up to Miyagi.

He gestured to the top of the palace, then pointed to his own chest, and let out a piercing sneer.

Miyagi gritted his teeth, his veins bulging.

"Don't let yourself be provoked, Miyagi."

Akagi Takenori reminded him in a deep voice.

But even he himself felt that the opposing center was like an insurmountable mountain.

"beep--"

The temporary referee blew the whistle.

The trial training and testing have officially begun.

The Bulls' reserves attack first.

There were no complicated tactics.

The point guard used his body to overpower Miyagi and force his way into the paint.

Akagi Takenori roared and pounced to cover.

The opposing center executed a simple screen, effectively trapping Akagi behind him.

The black point guard easily scored with a layup.

It's Shohoku's turn to attack.

Once Sakuragi Hanamichi is in game mode, he puts away all his frivolity.

His eyes were extremely steady, even cold, like a lurking wild beast.

Miyagi dribbled the ball with difficulty across half-court, but under suffocating defense, he couldn't even find a passing lane.

In the end, he could only manage to pass the ball to Rukawa Kaede on the wing.

Rukawa Kaede receives the ball.

The forward defending him immediately closed in, his enormous wingspan almost completely blocking any shooting space.

"Too weak, Asian boy," the small forward mocked in English.

An unprecedented fighting spirit exploded in Rukawa Kaede's chest.

Coach Anzai's soul-stirring words echoed in my mind.

"Rukawa-kun, first become number one in Japan..."

Rukawa Kaede stared intently at the defender, foxfire flickering deep within his pupils.

"No need to wait until we go back to Japan."

"I'm going to prove it right here and now!"

"Bang!"

The basketball slammed heavily onto the floor.

Wild Red Fox!

Open!

Rukawa Kaede broke through his speed limit, his entire body turning into a red afterimage.

The striker was startled and instinctively retreated to defend.

The instant the center of gravity shifts.

Rukawa Kaede's body defied the laws of physics, resulting in an extremely bizarre pause.

Zone!

Empty cicada!

The extreme shift between fast and slow tempos caught the striker off guard for a moment.

"nice shot!!!"

Ayako shouted excitedly from the sidelines.

Rukawa Kaede stepped over the defense, only to find the basket empty.

Stepping just inside the free-throw line, his legs spring up like springs, propelling him high into the air.

He raises the basketball high behind his head with his right hand, his body arching perfectly in the air.

A tomahawk dunk!

"Let it go!"

Just as Rukawa was about to slam the ball into the basket.

A chilling sense of extreme danger suddenly descended from behind.

The lights in the entire stadium seemed to dim.

A terrifying shadow clad in a red training uniform, like a black dragon soaring from the abyss, arrived first despite being behind!

Michael Jordan.

Without even taking off his warm-up jacket, he rushed out from the bottom corner to cover the defense.

As Rukawa Kaede watched in utter shock, that enormous hand pressed down, as if it could blot out the sky.

"Bang!!!"

A muffled thud shattered the atmosphere.

This wasn't just an ordinary block; it was an extremely brutal, nail-biting block!

Jordan slammed the basketball against the backboard, and the immense impact sent Rukawa Kaede flying.

"Thump!"

Rukawa Kaede crashed heavily to the floor, panting heavily.

The entire Bulls' home arena fell into dead silence.

There was no cheering, no mocking.

All the Bulls' bench players looked at the man who landed with awe.

Absolute dominance, a dimensional reduction attack.

This is the god of basketball.

Even dust can hold sparks.

But before the gods, mortals can only look up in awe.

Rukawa Kaede wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and looked up.

He stared intently at the man wearing the number 23.

There was no fear, only a fanaticism that burned to its extreme, bordering on morbid.

Jordan dusted off his hands and looked down at Rukawa Kaede on the ground.

A rare glint of admiration flashed in those usually cold eyes.

"The rhythm changes are great."

Jordan stretched out a hand towards Rukawa, revealing a devilish smile.

"But this set of movements is too obvious and full of flaws."

"Over the next few days, I will personally teach you how to kill without shedding blood."

Rukawa Kaede's pupils contracted sharply.

He grabbed Jordan's hand for leverage and stood up, his voice hoarse with extreme excitement.

"I couldn't have gotten it."

Sidelines.

Lin Bei watched this scene with satisfaction.

The opportunity for Rukawa Kaede's evolution has been found.

With Jordan personally shaping it, this fox will definitely become the most terrifying killer in all of Japan.

but……

Lin Bei's gaze swept over the inside line.

In the previous play, even on the defensive end, Akagi was clearly unable to withstand the strength of an NBA player.

Although Sakuragi is steady and good at positioning himself, he is still too inexperienced when it comes to rebounding against taller players.

Sakuragi Hanamichi's rebounding talent is undeniable, but he lacks an extremely exceptional mentor.

"Jordan can teach Rukawa how to score."

"Mitsui and Miyagi also received instruction here."

"But there aren't any beasts here to teach rebounding."

Lin Bei stroked his chin, raising his eyebrows slightly.

A crazed figure with multicolored hair and tattoos flashed through my mind.

Lin Bei's lips curled into a playful, cold smile.

He turned around and waved to Klaus, who was still wiping his sweat beside him.

"Mr. Klaus, come here for a moment."

Klaus immediately fawned over him like a lapdog.

"Young Master Lin, what are your orders?"

"Is the air conditioning set too high?"

Klaus rubbed his hands together, his fat face scrunched up in a smile.

Lin Bei ignored his polite words.

His gaze was fixed on Sakuragi Hanamichi, who was trying to get into position on the court, and his index finger tapped his knee lightly.

"Go and call Dennis Rodman over here," Lin Bei said calmly.

"Who?"

Klaus's smile froze, and his small eyes were filled with great confusion.

"Young Master Lin, you mean...?"

"That spiky, multicolored head of Dennis Rodman?"

He was internally ranting and raving.

Has this young master gone mad?

That guy is a real spirited young man!

No, that guy is a psychopath.

"Yes, that's the pervert." Lin Bei nodded.

Klaus took out a handkerchief and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, looking troubled.

"Young Master Lin, you may not be aware of the situation."

"Rodman wasn't even a member of our Bulls team!"

"He's a member of the Pistons now."

"Besides, that guy is a complete lunatic; even the Pistons' coach can't control him. How could we possibly bring him to Chicago?"

Klaus swallowed hard and explained cautiously.

Lin Bei was slightly taken aback.

He then realized that it was 92.

The legendary "Worm" hadn't yet joined the Bulls to ride their coattails.

He continued his unruly and dissolute life with the Pistons.

"I'm not one of yours..."

Lin Bei was amused and pulled out the black satellite phone from inside his trench coat.

"It's okay."

"Anything that can be solved with money isn't a problem."

Klaus stared blankly at Lin Bei.

I have absolutely no idea what this rich young master is thinking.